The Celestial Circle: The Court of Lights
by Quel33
Summary: A semi-peaceful life in the underbelly of Sharn doesn't last long, as once again Quel and his friends are caught in a dangerous web of intrigues. Someone is searching for an artifact in Sharn that is the key to finding a missing fleet of ghost ships that vanished over a century ago. No one has ever found the fleet and returned. The dead tell no tales and the living dare not.


**The Celestial Circle**

**Book Two: The Court of Lights**

By Quel33

**This is a work of fanfiction, there is no relation to any real events, places, organizations, etc.**

**_Synopsis_**

_The Celestial Circle is an accident. It is more a creation of misfortune than of providence. From the fires of a war only vaguely remembered in obscure legends the Circle was born; a war fought by the two most powerful species in the known universe: the Humans of 1st_ _Earth and the Godlike Precursors. The war supposedly lasted for over a century and ended abruptly. A weapon was set off, ripping the very fabric of the universe apart and forming what we now call the Celestial Circle and its surroundings. Over a thousand years have passed since then and we have lost much, but we have also gained much in return. Worlds, realms and universes that had never encountered each other have had a chance to cross-pollinate and the resulting amalgamation of cultures, ideas and beliefs has made for an entirely new and wondrous universe. A universe that is not entirely as it could be, a universe that is in the hold of an impenetrable darkness no one seems to understand. This darkness is the shell that both protects and smothers the Circle. It is the Sea of Chaos that surrounds all of the Circle, with the mysterious "Tethers" being the only way to travel between them. The Cataclysm destroyed all civilization, but it did not eradicate it. The populations of numerous planets have recovered in the past millennia and have branched out, communicating and learning from one another. Five known galaxies survived the Cataclysm and have begun trying to establish footholds within the Circle. A new age of change and strife is about to begin. This is the Celestial Circle, a universe in the throes of strife and change. Very soon the band of misfits that have gathered themselves around Quel Tiin will be drawn into history's spotlight and a terrifying new age will begin..._

_**Welcome to the Celestial Circle**_

_**Part Three: Ringleaders**_

_**Once we had finally released all of the gods and goddesses, we had no purpose. There was nothing keeping us together anymore. Everyone still chose to stay with me. After all that I had recently endured in the Abyss and the battles before that my body was severely weakened. We needed a place to go to recover and plan for our futures. I chose Sharn because it felt right. Everyone fought to earn a living so we could live and not starve. I was truly blessed to have such people as these as my companions. **_

_**During this time I decided to open up my own small business. I hired myself out as a "fixer of all things." I figured it was my kind of job, full of all sorts of opportunities and rewards. I had no idea what I was getting myself, or my friends, into...**_

_Beyond the end of the icebound shell_

_To the halls of our ancestors long silent_

_To the graves of the fallen long unkempt_

_We will at last return to our homeland_

_The aspects of the Harbingers will gather once more_

_The Regalia will light the path and bar the way_

_The unsung will finally be recalled_

_Under the light of the blood filled moon_

_Our dying Will shall reach its conclusion_

_The Chosen will cross the Threshold_

_And the worlds of men will be born anew_

**_Chapter Thirty Four: The Package_**

**_Eberron, Sharn, City of Towers, June 12th, 1393 a.c._**

It was the Year 990 YK. The Long War would not end for another six years and an uneasy peace that would eventually deteriorate back into the endless slaughter of the war was in place. Today was a special day in Sharn, the Vertical City. From its highest towers to its lowest depths the festival of Dol Dorn could be felt. It was Brightblade, the holy day of Dol Dorn, Sovereign Lord of Strength and Steel. All over the city mini tournaments of strength were being held. None were larger than the one held in the Daggerwatch garrison's training grounds. Daggerwatch garrison was one of the city's biggest garrisons of the Sharn Watch-the city's police force-and was located in the district of the same name. Currently a full scale battle was being held on the training grounds, with hundreds of people engaged in a grand melee. The prize for being the last man standing was a purse of 100 golden galifars, a princely sum.

But not all parts of the city experienced the delights of the festival. And some were even almost deserted in this time of celebration. Far away from Daggerwatch, down lower in the city's vast heights, was the district of Precarious. It was a warehouse district with giant monolithic storage buildings dominating the scenery. Precarious got its name due to the fact that it was built right next to a steep cliff overlooking the Dagger River and the docks far below. Giant cranes, wondrous arcane machines, lifted up the supplies offloaded at the docks and deposited them here. In one of the smaller warehouses, located on the very edge of the cliff that overlooked the waterfront district of Grayflood a couple thousand feet below, an important meeting was taking place.

It was pitch black in the warehouse. Dakrias hated dark places. When there was darkness there were usually things hiding in the dark waiting for prey. Dakrias hadn't survived into his forties as a hard-bitten criminal on sheer luck. His instincts had saved him more than once. Right now they were screaming at him to run, but his master's cruelty made him desperate. In order to survive in the underbelly of such a merciless city like Sharn he had to sometimes ignore his gut instincts. His numerous scars were a silent testament to this. Besides, without a patron to watch out for him he was as good as dead with all of the enemies he had made in his time.

Still... Something had him antsy and he knew better than to ignore it. Readying some explosive potions and loosening his saber in its tarnished sheath, Dakrias boldly strode forward. His contact wasn't hard to find. They stood under the glow cast by a single everbright lantern high up on the wall. Everything else in the entire building was claimed by the shadows, except this one person and the table they stood behind piled high with many strange and eerie bottles.

"Come, I don't have much time," his contact said. "My master wishes for me to move on to other cities today and this will take a bit of time. Have your masters agreed to my sum?"

Dakrias cleared his suddenly dry throat before answering. "They have, but the Boromar Family is not comfortable exchanging so much money at once. They feel it is...not wise. They wish to exchange it in two parts. They also wanted me to ask you more about what you want in return for these gifts. And... they have doubts about the effectiveness you've promised. I've been instructed to test out these potions for myself." Dakrias wasn't thrilled at the prospect of what he had been ordered to do.

Smiling, his contact strode around the table to stand next to him. "I'm not surprised. Many doubt what we have to offer, but so far all have been eager clients by the end. I'm certain what we have to offer will ensure your family's continued rule of this city for many years to come. We just have a few conditions. Call it a favor we want in return for our continued business partnership. After you see what it is we are offering, you will be more than willing to tell your family to agree to our proposal."

"I'll be the judge of that." Dakrias said skeptically. "Explain to me again what these _'salts'_ can do."

"Of course."

They both stood over the table and looked down on the many colored bottles lined on top of it. Each glinted with its own inner power, luring the unwary to taste of their might. His contact reached for a blood red bottle, which was in the shape of a sexy demon girl holding up one hand and breathing fire onto her palm. Her pointed horns stuck out and her pointed tail wrapped around the bottle. She was completely naked, but no great detail was put into the workmanship of the bottle, so it didn't really matter; no one would be scandalized.

"This one will hurt a bit." His contact warned, unstopping the bottle and handing it to Dakrias. A stamp on the side of the bottle glared out at him. It was a bewhiskered, sharp-toothed, yellow-eyed devil face, leering most evilly. Dakrias hesitantly gulped down the contents of the bottle. When he finished he dropped the bottle in shock and watched in agony as his hands caught fire and began to burn all the way to the bone. All he could do was scream in agony.

Just then the nearest wall exploded inwards and members of Sharn's Watch stormed in.

"FREEZE! You're both under arrest for illegal drug trafficking! Hands up!"

The guards got what they asked for, in spades.

Meanwhile, not that far from the raid taking place in Precarious, there was a heated argument occurring. It was a...stupid one.

"Don't just walk through here naked woman!" Quel snapped. "I could have customers walk in at any moment!"

"And they'd come back for more, thus increasing our profits." Saida replied. "Relax prude."

She was clad in her birthday suit, walking around dripping water on the floor after having just taken a shower. It was expensive to have indoor plumbing in this poor section of the city, but Quel was willing to pay for it. And not just for the sight of Saida boldly walking around in the nude. When they had arrived in Sharn over a year ago, they had been at a loss as to where to settle down. The _Yahosun_, their magical flying wooden ship, was heavily damaged after their last adventure and needed repairs before it could fly again. Effectively stuck, they each turned to their own unique skill sets to earn money to live. Chuldo became a bodyguard, bouncer and even a bounty hunter; his brawn proving perfect for the jobs. Flau, knowing better than to just begin picking pockets and step on the toes of one of the city's vast underworld organizations, instead got in touch with the various underworld groups in Sharn. She decided to refrain from becoming a thief, pickpocket or burglar and instead was Quel's helper and secretary, giving him other avenues of knowledge and keeping him abridged of the various nefarious schemes going on in the city's underbelly. Dong Dong remained on the _Yahosun_ as it sat in the harbor at Grayflood, driftwood in everything but name. Her time was mostly spent as she put it: "experimentin' and researchin' the various forces at work in the cosmol'gy of Eeberron." Whatever that meant it must involve flammable chemicals and eerie lights, for that's what permeated the _Yahosun_ as it sat at anchor. No one in their right mind strayed anywhere near it. The ship was at the edge of Grayflood's section of the docks, with a sheer cliff face nearby and the majority of the docks in the other direction. Few people ever went that way anyway. Rishi was trying to start an apothecary, but had run into numerous walls and obstacles. Firstly he didn't have enough money to purchase a business license, second he didn't have enough money to bribe the officials who could give him his business license and third he didn't have enough money to bribe the many criminal organizations he needed to buy off in order for his business to go unmolested. Needless to say, he was at an impasse. Arcana was earning her keep as a member of the City Watch and was stationed in the Daggerwatch garrison. When she had first expressed her intentions, everyone had had misgivings. Quel, however, was unperturbed and had complete faith in her. At the sight of his calmness, everyone else soon stopped worrying about one of their own joining the police force. Saida, being as finicky and free-spirited as any feline should, was unemployed and chose to wander the city at night and generally helped any of her companions she found in interesting adventures at that moment. Mostly, she stayed by Quel's side and assisted him when he went out. Arguments over nudity aside, they were still very close.

And now we get to the last, but certainly not the least, in our roster. Quel was earning far less than everyone else and was experiencing a downturn in business. He found, fixed and fought anyone or anything needing someone of his unique talents. It had been almost a full month since his last customer. Thinking it smart, he had opened up his own small shop in Old Keep, an old district that had been Sharn's first garrison. Back then it had been known as The Keep and was Sharn's one big fortress. Nowadays it was still a large set of towers and buildings, but the City Watch had long ago abandoned this district and it had been turned into residential housing. It was a lower class district, full of people who commuted to the higher levels of the city and the lower levels in the Cogs to earn a living. Only old timers who had lived most of their lives here and those down on their luck stayed in this depressing section of the city for long. Quel didn't have enough money to buy both the property for a business and a home, so he made do with both in one. The front living room was his office, and the adjoining kitchen remained as it was, albeit one whole wall taken up with mostly empty filing cabinets. The only other room that led off of the main entry/living room was the dwelling's one bathroom, which was complete with a sink, shower and toilet, all crammed into a 10 x 10 square foot room. Nice and comfy! A set of stairs led up to a landing where three bedrooms were spread along a small hallway. Everyone sort of shared rooms. The highest and last room was a balcony up another smaller set of stairs at the end of the small second story hallway. It had two chairs, a small table and a few inches left over to stand in. The balcony looked out over the street and had a great view of rolling towers and rundown forts in the district, dreary facade giving way to dreary facade.

_Well Saida's well-muscled body was far from dreary,_ Quel mused. Noticing his eyes, Saida flicked her tail at him and droplets of water smacked into his eyes. Her aim was surprisingly good.

"Don't look." She teased.

"Then garb thyself in something!" He said, his mask of anger falling away at the sight of her curves. Blushing, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat. Laughing, she vanished up the stairs, leaving behind wet footprints on the carpet. Settling back down to read the morning paper, Quel briefly wished his day would be more productive.

That was when his front door burst open with a loud bang, making him jump. Two men came stumbling in. The first was dressed in a flowing cloak with expensive, yet practical armor. A wide brimmed hat with a large red feather sticking out of the brim adorned his head. He had green eyes and a well maintained goatee. Behind this man came a much more pensive man wearing spectacles and carrying a book clutched to his chest. He was clearly a scholar in his flowing robes and while his companion gave off a fierce vibe, he only came off as pensive.

"I presume you're Quel Tiin?" the warrior asked.

"I am." Quel replied evenly.

"Your add in the _Sharn Inquisitive_ said you could solve any dilemma and find anything that was lost. Is this true?"

"It is."

"Alright then," the warrior said, shoving his companion forwards. "Jarvis, tell the man what Lord d'Varan wants of him."

"Y-yes Captain." Jarvis stammered. Bowing far too low he snapped open a large scroll and began reading from it in an entirely too loud voice. "HIS LORDSHIP AURELIUS D'VARAN HAS REQUESTED YOUR ASSISTANCE IN-"

"NOT SO LOUD YOU IDIOT!" Shouted the Captain, his mustache fairly bristling in anger.

"What's all that racket?" Saida said from the top of the stairs. A towel wrapped around her head being her only bit of dress.

"Oh balls..." Quel mumbled, his face in his hand.

Jarvis toppled to the floor in a dead faint and the Captain's face had become very red.

"What is she doing undressed!" he asked, grating out the words in supreme agitation.

Quel sighed. "I gave up asking that a long time ago..."

The Captain placed a sealed scroll on Quel's desk and grabbed Jarvis by his collar before dragging him from the room. "Lord d'Varan will pay you handsomely if you can find what he has asked for! But if you bring that woman near His Lordship make her wear some clothing for heaven's sake!"

Putting down his morning paper, Quel cracked the seal and began reading the scroll. Saida sauntered downstairs and came to read over his shoulder. After waiting weeks for a single customer, Quel now had two. The second one walked in shortly later, finding Quel and Saida reading the scroll. Understandably they shrieked at the sight of the naked cat-girl.

Far away, on another world in the Celestial Circle, a man in his late fifties sat in a dimly lit study. It was his ancestral home on the planet Zenj, the political capital of the Circle. Many bookcases lined the walls, each one filled to bursting with many different tomes, each one valuable enough to bankrupt a kingdoms treasury. This man was sitting by the gigantic hearth that dominated one wall of this room. A portrait hung over the hearth, but it was covered over by a large black curtain.

There was a knock on the double doors carved out of rich valewood.

"Enter," said the man.

A young man in his early twenties by all appearances, briskly strode across the rich carpet with unique designs inlaid into it from the beastmen of Cavix Ra. "Your Grace, good morning. I have come to give you your daily dose as well as to fill you in on all that is occurring currently."

"Belmont, you're late today," replied Nikander, High Duke of the Celestial Court of Lights. The Court was a waning thing, a mere shadow of what it had once been. In its height it had been an august body of all of the nobles from across the Circle gathered in one area, one mindset. Now they were all scattered and in ruin. It had all been on that fateful night when the Lords of the Stars—those pretentious bastards! —had wiped out the Eight Stewards, the Rule of Eight, the entire governing body of the Celestial Circle, in one fell swoop. Now those with noble blood like Nikander were nothing more than cast off remnants of a vanished era of power. Nikander loathed the reality he lived in more than could be put into mere words. Thus, he schemed endlessly with his immeasurable wealth and cunning to return things to the way they had been and still should be.

"My apologies Your Grace. I must make excuses because I would not have been late today unless I had something important keeping me." Belmont said this as he got out of a small suitcase the syringe full of the Duke's daily dosage.

"Quite." Nikander loathed his medicine and reluctantly drew up his sleeve.

"Well it seems I've finally dug up some information on what went wrong with your Black Moons Operation a year ago." With gentle hands, Belmont inserted the needle into his master's flesh and injected the medicine. It coursed through the Duke's veins, revitalizing him ever so slowly and reversing the damage. But the pain was immense. A lesser man would have cried out, Nikander only paled slightly and gritted his teeth.

Suddenly all of the fogginess in Lord Nikander's brain fled. "Tell me everything."

"The details are sketchy, but my contact seems certain that a great battle took place between demons and celestials on the Astral Tree. It was there that the remains of a black robotic warrior were found with a dead tree sprouting from its back. A sword had pierced him all the way through his chest and out the back of the tree... There was no sign of the Regalia." Belmont put the syringe back in its case and clamped the lid shut before focusing back on his master.

"And there is no trace of whoever stopped my plans Belmont?"

"I'm afraid the only sign is the hole in Dusk's body. The perpetrators left no other traces and we couldn't interview any of the celestials, but perhaps I could open up an avenue of inquiry with the denizens of the lower planes. We would just have to hire someone on Toril who knew what they were doing."

"Very good Belmont, but that isn't all you wanted to tell me." The Duke declared more than guessed. He knew his underlings well and Belmont was one of his most trusted and adept servants.

"Yes Your Grace, there is one other thing... The sale of Vigors in Sharn is entering its beginning stage. Ephraim is hammering out the finishing details with the Boromar clan's liaison as we speak. I should have the final report to you by this evening."

The gears in Nikander's brain began to turn. Much yet needed to be set in motion and he feared things could get out of hand if there wasn't a means to control what was about to happen. "What about your button-man, that... shadowy one."

"Ahern is standing by to ensure everything goes according to plan. I've even sent two others along with him. One is a changeling and the other a thought-reader. Both are platinum grade. They should blend well with Ahern's... accursed nature."

"Good. There can be no room for error in this crucial stage. We need the Vigors to spread to all corners of the city before we can continue."

"I understand Your Grace. Your will is my command, I will not fail on my end."

With a weary sigh, Nikander settled back into the comfortable warmth of his chair and remembered life before the Lords of the Stars and their entire ilk had destroyed the established order of things. Filth like pirates should be wiped clean from the Circle for good and all. If Nikander had his way it would be more than a possibility, it would be only a matter of time.

"So you're telling me we just got two high paying jobs back-to-back after nearly four weeks of nothing but small time deals?" Flau was so surprised she was almost scandalized.

"Why are you so surprised?" Quel asked in hurt tones.

"Why aren't you?" Saida asked him back. She was finally dressed for the day, thank the gods.

"What do you mean?" he replied. "I always knew we'd get good customers again...eventually."

"But not this soon." Saida teased.

"Eh...maybe so." Quel said. "But let's focus. We now have two jobs."

"About that." Flau interjected. She placed the scroll Quel had received from Lord d'Varan and the other document from a manager of an auspicious pet shop in Upper Tavick's Landing on the tabletop. "I've been reading these two things here..."

"Yeah?" Quel and Saida asked in unison.

"This Lord d'Varan wants us to find an old statue for him in the Depths and this pet shop owner wants us to find one of his missing animals, a young basilisk he says... Who's doing which job and what's our pay going to be?"

"Lord d'Varan is paying us ten golden galifars for the statue in one piece, five if it's damaged." Quel said. "And the petshop owner, a Mr. Zamban, is paying us five sovereigns if we find his pet alive. His is the smaller of the two jobs and probably the harder of them both."

"I'll hunt down the basilisk. You'll find the statue." Saida declared, pointing at Quel.

"Yes ma'am." He saluted.

"If I have a choice I think I'll go with Quel this time around." Flau said.

"Suit yourself." Saida shrugged. "The Depths are not pleasant. And it isn't wise to follow _him_ around down there." She pointed a finger at Quel.

"Hey! That was only one time!" He fumed.

"It was two times!" She retorted. "And we nearly blew up during the second one, or don't you remember that Izzet League fire mage?!"

Quel sighed. "I remember."

"Control yourself and Flau should live."

Flau looked at them with an expression that communicated one emotion: 'Oh Brother.'

Underneath Sharn, yet above the furnaces and foundries in the Cogs, lay the Depths. This is UnderSharn, a place sealed by iron and magic, where great danger lies hand in hand with great treasure. There are many secret things lying in the Depths, waiting to be found. It has been many long decades since this abandoned place was sealed off. There were few ways to get into the Depths and Quel knew of one few others were aware of.

"We're below the Depths..." Flau remarked, as they walked together through the ash covered streets of Ashblack, an aptly named area if ever there was one.

"Yes, we are. Just follow me and all will be revealed."

He led her deeper into the labyrinthine depths of the Upper Cogs until they reached a condemned foundry at the very darkest corner of the district. The Cogs was where the poorest citizens of the city eked out a living working in factories, foundries, tanneries and many other unsavory businesses. Black ash covered every surface and reduced visibility horribly. Quel slipped through the boarded up doorway to the foundry, it had plenty of large gaps, and led Flau to the back and up a spiraling metal staircase. At the top, along one of the decayed skywalks overlooking the central work station was a ladder ascending up to a trapdoor placed in the ceiling. The ladder looked like it had been welded by a half blind crabman, so bent and twisted was it, but it was just as sturdy as ugly. Quel climbed up the rungs first and pushed open the trapdoor. They were now in a small pocket-chamber no larger than six feet by six feet with another ladder climbing even higher up into the unknown. At the top of that second ladder they arrived in a cobweb ridden, dust-bunny ruled, antechamber. Coughing and sneezing, they stumbled out of it and into a grand stone wrought hall fallen into shambles.

"Welcome to the Depths." Quel grinned at her, before sneezing again.

"What an odd way to get here." Flau commented.

The statue they were looking for was small, only about nine inches tall, and was in the shape of a nude winged humanoid with a roaring lion's head. It clutched a scepter and its entire body was encircled by a couatl. The winged serpent was biting the lion head from behind, almost devouring it. It gave the odd appearance of being the living cowl of some ghastly hood. They started their search where Lord d'Varan's directions said they might find clues as to the statue's whereabouts: an old abandoned temple to an unknown god. This temple lay in ruins, with most of its walls fallen inwards. It was a structural nightmare. Quel and Flau crawled, inched and slithered into its many nooks and crannies. They had to be very careful, lest they cause the entire thing to crash down on top of them. It was eerily quiet in this section of the city, with so much built atop them and below them. Finally, after nearly an hour of wiggling through a small recess, with Quel having gotten stuck twice, they fell into a small ossuary. Across the room lay a skeletal figure resting with a greatsword grasped in bony fingers long bereft of muscle and tendon. Illegible ancient script was etched into the blade and across a small fillet resting on the bony brow of the skeleton. Light spilled in from somewhere, no doubt a remnant magical effect, bathing the figure in radiant, yet gentle, light. Quel inched forwards to get a better look at the figure at rest.

"What are you doing!" Flau hissed. "It could be cursed! Or worse: it could wake up!"

"I'm just going to get a look at something..." Quel said distractedly. Then he straightened and beckoned Flau to stand next to him. Groaning in disgust, she inched forwards even more slowly than he had and peeked over his shoulder. He stood to the side so she could get a better look. What she saw made her give out a small involuntary gasp. Quel smirked at her. A mosaic of their missing statue was inlaid all along the side of the funerary slab. While this told them little in the way of anything, they did find something else in that mosaic: the statue's shadow was given chilling detail, with muscles and clear cut definition inlaid into its form. It almost seemed to have a life of its own. Tiles of pitch black, midnight blue and many other dark colors were put into its form. But its eyes were twin motes of the void.

"That shadow gives me the creeps." Flau said with a shudder.

"I wonder...If this is one of the Dark Six... The Shadow, to be precise...?" Quel said quietly. "A temple dedicated to him to be more exact..."

Flau regarded him with wide eyes. He shrugged. "Let's continue to poke around and see if we can find anything of value here."

They dug around for another half an hour and found another secret room leading off from the ossuary. Inside of it there was a chest broken open and many scattered items. There were quite a few bits of broken pottery and statuary.

"I have a feeling our statue was in here." Flau said as she picked through the fragments.

"But it has moved on." Quel bent over to the ground and began sniffing around like, well, a dog. He was gifted with extraordinary abilities, not the least of which was an acute sense of smell. In fact his sight, smell and hearing were all on par with a wolves. Such was his blessing and his curse.

"What have you found?" Flau asked, her curiosity overcoming her patience.

"Nothing at all beyond the smell of dust and decay. If we ever do find this statue I will be able to remember its smell enough to match it to here." He paused in his examination. "Curious, I can smell two males, but there is another distinctly foreign odor I cannot place... But it is very familiar... Where have I smelled it before...? How intriguing."

"Yes, well, if we've found all there is to find here let's get going."

"They weren't here all that long ago too. Maybe a little outside of a full day... We just missed them."

Quel rose to his feet and they set out to crawl, slide and squeeze their way back out to the top of the rubble pile that was all that remained of the church. When they got almost all the way back up to the surface they heard a commotion. Thankfully they were able to peek outside from the shadows of a collapsed pillar without being seen. They saw many shifters and half-orcs running in a pack, all of them intent on finding something... or someone. A moment later a loud voice screamed out in anger:

"FIND THE HALFLINGS!"

"That sounds familiar..." Quel murmured.

Flau looked at him askance. "What...?!"

He blinked. "Nothing, it was just a thought."

They stayed very still and actually crept a little deeper into the collapsed church. There were quite a few shifters and half-orcs, with a few mangy humans thrown in, hunting for these halflings. Eventually the sounds of the small hunting party receded and Quel and Flau crept out to the lighter, yet still dim, section of the Depths. It was lit up by a bioluminescent lichen that made it slightly less bright than at twilight in the outside world.

All was still.

Beckoning Flau to follow him, Quel led her deeper into the Depths.

Flames shot out of Dakrias' hands like living monsters hungering for flesh and bone. The front ranks of the Watch squad were consumed by the fires and fell over dead, blackened husks. The second and third ranks pouring in through the breach blown in the wall spread out and crossbowmen and archers began to fire. Ahern, that was who Dakrias' contact was, triggered a few vigors of his own. He fired off two, one for each arm. The first was a shock wave that removed gravity, lifting up and rendering helpless multiple guards. The second one he fired was a giant swarm of crows that engulfed all of the guards he'd cast up into the air. Their screams as the crows tore into them, eating them alive, were sickening.

"Now you see the full power of what I can offer you!" Ahern shouted to Dakrias. The Boromar liaison could only dully nod his head at the scene of so much blood and gore before him. His eyes were vacant.

Two men appeared out of the shadows next to Ahern, one was holding a small ugly statue. He raised it up and its eyes glowed briefly before six displacer beasts-black felines with two extra forelegs and two tentacles sprouting from their shoulders-preceded to maul the Watch guardsmen. Before any more guards could get close enough to hinder them, Ahern jammed the remaining vigor bottles on the table into a satchel and handed that to the other man, who was an exceedingly tall man from the longleg tribe. Then he ushered Dakrias to a dark corner of the warehouse, far away from the sounds of battle and death. They took many winding turns through towering stacks of crates before arriving at a blank wall. Another man joined them here, his face masked by the hood he wore. Ahern moved close to the wall and pressed somewhere on its surface, revealing a hidden doorway that opened up into an alleyway. Stepping through it and across the alley's narrow confines to the wall of the building next door, Ahern pressed another secret button. This opened up a sliding slab of rock in the alleyway ground. A narrow staircase descended into the darkness.

Dakrias really hated the darkness.

Saida wasn't having any luck. The proprietor of _'Zamban's Wondrous Bestiary'_ couldn't help her much. He did give her the animal's cage it had slept in and told her it had escaped four days ago. The cage wasn't that large, so the beast mustn't be that large. Usually if something had four days of a lead on her it wouldn't have been a problem, but with as much foot traffic and hustle and bustle that occurred in Sharn it would be almost impossible to find it under all the other smells. She needed a miracle. Thinking thus, she glumly went searching around the back of the shop in a dank alley. She did find a faint trace of the creature's scent and followed it a few streets over to a sewer grate...

It didn't take her long to realize where the creature had gone.

Down she went, on a slimy ladder that deposited her in a filth-ridden tunnel with knee high water. Unmentionable things floated in that water.

"Why is it that monsters always congregate in sewers!?" Her nose was making her want to vomit. Not only that, but the smell was so foul she could taste it and that was _really_ making her want to vomit. She ripped off and tied around her face a section of her shirt's hem. It helped her deal with the smell somewhat, but not much. Now she had to wade through dank disgustingness, which she did grudgingly. She let loose with a few curses so foul that they would make a sailor blush. Step after step she trudged through hellish filth. After what felt like years she arrived at a crossroads of passages. She had successfully gone twenty feet and it had only taken years off her lifespan to do so. Unfortunately she had lost all trace of the scent she had been tracking when she had entered the sewer. The cloying aroma of the sewers, powerful enough to clog her throat and threaten to make her gag, blocked out all else. Fortunately she felt instinctively good about the path she was following, which either meant the fumes were getting to her or her Ctarl-Ctarl hunting instincts were kicking in. It could also be both.

That was when she encountered a giant ooze. It had been sticking to the ceiling high overhead and dropped down out of nowhere in ambush. She barely managed to sense it and roll clear in time. Now her entire body was sopping wet in filth from her little roll. Rage turned her vision red and before she could even consciously think, a barrage of shock waves erupted from her fists. There were so many of them and they slammed into the ooze in such rapid succession that it was torn to pieces and scattered into a hundred smaller pieces. All of whom focused on Saida and began to slither towards her. Feeling grossed out beyond her spunk's limits, she let loose a shock wave from her entire body that threatened to collapse the tunnel on top of her. Good news was that all of the mini oozes were eradicated. Bad news was that the tunnel was beginning to crumble down around her. The street up above mustn't be faring too well either. Saida ran on and came to another crossroads, this one with two water filled pipes descending deeper into the bowels of the city. Both had fast flowing water and steep drops into misty abysses. Saida chose the left-hand one at random and went on a wild and slippery ride down into the unknown. It got steadily filthier.

The twin siblings, Erek and Sif, ran for their lives. It had seemed so simple, just deliver the package and meet at the rendezvous for payment. But nothing had gone like it should have. The package he had been tasked to deliver had been a bomb and it had detonated moments after Erek had delivered it. He had barely managed to survive. If it hadn't been for his sister and her gift he would have died back then. She had taken him into the sewers and a familiar section of the Depths they had grown up playing in. That was when the Red Jackals had ambushed them. Everyone in UnderSharn and the surrounding areas hated the Red Jackals with a passion. Again the twins had managed to escape, but now they ran for their lives.

They raced through collapsed buildings of ages past and old avenues long since buried by the higher levels of the city. The occasional lava flow greeted them, this far down in the city such flows were not uncommon. They had a hard time not slipping and falling in all of the detritus that clogged every passageway. If they somehow managed to encounter a tough monster down here now, it would be the end of them. Using their race's darkvision saved their lives. It allowed them to see where a normal human would have only been trapped by their own blindness. They ran into the highest sections of the Depths, where it joined with the sewers above. Few sane people went here alone and those that did usually weren't heard from again. Sif picked up a rat and spoke to it in quiet tones and oddly enough it seemed to listen before scampering off.

The Red Jackals found them then and cut off their paths of escape. The twins did not flee, but stood their ground holding hands. They were in a big central pit where a lot of the city's refuse collected. Other scavenger clans gathered and fought over places like this for the commodities they yielded. Any scavengers who were in the pit quickly fled upon seeing so many of the Jackals out in force. The Red Jackals were known for their brutality and were much feared down below where the light of day had never been seen. Immediately after trapping them, the Jackals ripped the twins apart and beat Erek to the brink of death. They laughed and began to tear the clothing off of Sif, their evil leers giving away their intentions. The two brutes holding her, one a shifter, the other a big half-orc, cried out as she vanished into thin air. She reappeared a few feet over, a dark corona surrounding her body. The Jackals backed away from her, only to find more sinister people in rags emerging from the shadows. They were of House Tarkanan and Sif was one of them, their sister if you will. Nothing sparked House Tarkanan to violence like the possibility of harm coming to any of their family. The screams of the Red Jackals penetrated the many layers of stone and metal, echoing to the far reaches of the Depths and sewers. Every last one of them, all twenty-six, were killed by the Children of Khyber.

A storm was building in Sharn...


End file.
